412 The Citadel (1/2)

Arran's injury healed slower than he had expected, with the Desolation's suppression affecting his blood just as strongly as it did his strength and magic.

Where he would normally recover from even the gravest wounds in a matter of hours — less, if he had enemies whose strength he could rob — it now took him two full days to recover. And even then, the wound had yet to heal completely.

Kaleesh had little sympathy for his condition, however.

”A wound like that would have killed a commoner,” he said with an indifferent shrug. ”And even I would've taken weeks to recover. For you, it might serve as a lesson — that you're not invincible.”

There was some truth to the captain's words. Arran had long grown accustomed to shrugging off even the most grievous wounds, and if he didn't believe he'd grown careless, exactly, perhaps he hadn't been quite as careful as he should, either.

Because strong as he might be, Kaleesh was right about one thing — he was not invincible.

But if the time he spent recovering provided a valuable lesson, it was ill-spent otherwise. Two days of discussing the attack brought them no insights about who was responsible, and finally, they were forced to conclude that it could be almost anyone.

Even if they hadn't been involved in Lord Kadun's death and Arran hadn't slain a Knight — two of them, by now — just being outsiders who dared command an army in the Desolation was enough to earn them numerous enemies. That the army was composed of prisoners only added to the scandal.

There could be little doubt that more attacks would follow, and while the Knight who'd attacked them in Sacrifice had been dangerous, those enemies who were waiting for the perfect moment to strike would be a far bigger threat.

That knowledge did little to soothe their frustration at not knowing who'd attacked them, and as they sat eating the unpleasant grub the innkeeper passed off as breakfast on their third day at the inn, Kaleesh let out a discontented sigh.

”I bet Lady Merem could find out,” he said, casting a distrustful look at the bowl of lumpy porridge on the table before him.

”Probably,” Arran agreed. ”But if we expose whoever ordered the attack, we'll involve the Lord backing them, as well.”

The attack had clearly been arranged by someone with a Lord's backing. No one else could have ordered a Knight to attempt a murder in the heart of Sacrifice.

Which meant they could not expose this hidden enemy. If they exposed a Lord's son or daughter, then the Lord would certainly not ignore it.

Better to give their enemy a path of retreat — a way to back down without losing face. Hopefully, losing a Knight would be enough of a setback to dissuade them from trying again.

”I suppose,” Kaleesh said, some reluctance remaining in his voice. ”But I still dislike the idea of having an enemy lurking in the shadows.”

”That we have,” Kaleesh agreed, a trace of worry in his eyes. ”Hopefully, we can finish our business in the city today. I trust Sassun with the army, but…”

Of course, Arran knew exactly what caused the captain concern. New as the army was, the troops' loyalty was still a shaky thing. And the longer he and Kaleesh were gone, the higher the chances that trouble would arise.

He cast a glance at the mostly half-eaten bowl of porridge before him and grimaced. ”Let's go. We'll eat something along the way.”

Kaleesh did not object to wasting coin for once, and a half-hour later they were moving along the city's busy streets, eating grilled meat wrapped in flatbread as they walked.

”The city looks a lot more peaceful now,” Arran observed, his eyes on the pleasant bustle that filled the streets. They hadn't left the inn while he recovered from his wound, and now, he almost found himself shocked by how different the city seemed in the early morning.

There weren't many soldiers and Rangers on the streets, and among those he did see, none appeared drunk or rowdy — though more than a few bore the pained expressions of men who'd drunk too much the previous night. Other than that, however, there were mostly commoners, wandering about the shops and food stalls that lined the streets.

”Most soldiers should still be sleeping off last night's ale,” Kaleesh said. ”But don't grow too comfortable. To get to the Citadel we'll have to go through the southwestern quarter of the city, and that's where most members of the Martial Alliance are.”

A frown crossed Arran's face. ”Think there will be trouble?”

”Probably not,” Kaleesh said, though he sounded far from certain. ”But we should keep our eyes open all the same.”

As they moved into the southwestern quarter of the city, it soon became obvious that the captain had been right. While the Rangers on the streets still weren't many, most of the small groups they saw cast suspicious looks in their direction, whispering amongst themselves as the two walked past.

”It seems word of our arrival has spread already.” Kaleesh looked at the Rangers curiously, unruffled by their hostile stares. ”And further than I had expected.”

Arran could only agree. He'd known they would draw attention, but he hadn't expected that they'd be recognized by almost every Ranger they saw. And while he wasn't too worried about another assassination attempt — not in broad daylight, at least — even a simple brawl could easily get out of hand.

Yet for all the dark looks the Rangers cast in their direction, none said anything. Instead, they slunk back whenever Arran and Kaleesh passed — not quite so fast that it could be considered fleeing, but fast enough that their intention was clear.

If nothing else, it seemed that Arran's defeat of the Knight on the road to Sacrifice had served as a warning to any would-be harassers.

And as the Rangers took pains to avoid crossing their path, the soldiers and commoners on the street did the same, quickly moving out of the way wherever Arran and Kaleesh went. While they might not recognize the two, anyone Rangers steered clear of was clearly worth avoiding.

A small smile crossed Kaleesh's face as he noticed the streets clearing. ”I could grow to like this,” he said. ”It certainly makes for a peaceful journey.”

”For now,” Arran replied in a flat tone, making no attempt to hide his unease.

Perhaps the Rangers they encountered so far did not dare to make a move, but with the sheer number of hostile stares they received, it was only a matter of time before one gathered the courage to confront them.

When that happened, others might rediscover their bravery, as well.

Arran's misgivings were confirmed barely five minutes later, when a young Ranger appeared on the street before them. There were two Knights at his side and half a dozen other Rangers following behind him, all of them dressed in immaculate uniforms of blue and black.

And unlike the groups they'd encountered so far, this one showed no sign of stepping aside.

Kaleesh let out a deep sigh, then said wistfully, ”I suppose it was too good to last.” He gave Arran a sideways glance. ”Best you let me do the talking.”

Arran didn't get the chance to ask any questions. They reached the group just a few moments later, forced to halt as the Rangers and Knights showed no sign of moving out of the way.

For several moments, neither side spoke. Instead, the Rangers looked at Arran and Kaleesh with wary eyes, their posture tense and their hands hovering near the hilts of their swords. And although the Knights appeared more at ease, even their eyes were tense with anticipation.

Finally, it was Kaleesh who broke the silence. ”Matas.” He gave the young Ranger an unenthusiastic smile. ”I hadn't expected to meet you here.”

Arran recognized the name at once. Matas was the Ranger whose army he'd seen in Knight's Watch, and whose underling he'd taught a small lesson. The son of Lord Ravir, as Arjun had said.

The young Ranger did not reply immediately. Instead, he cast a dark look at the two, a contemptuous sneer on his otherwise handsome face. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with disdain.

”Kaleesh. You have no business in this part of the city.”

”There's an Imperial Knight who disagrees,” Kaleesh replied. ”I can't imagine she'd be happy to hear you blocked us from visiting the Citadel.”

Surprise flashed across the Ranger's face, but he regained his composure almost instantly. ”I cannot bar you from the Citadel, but do not believe you can provoke the Martial Alliance without consequence. Not after the part you played in the betrayal of Lord Kadun.”

”Lord Rannoc was the one who killed him,” Kaleesh replied, a hint of weariness in his voice. ”Though Kadun's fate was well-deserved.”

Matas's expression turned to one of barely suppressed fury. ”Lord Kadun was an honorable—”

”He was an idiot,” Kaleesh cut him off. ”An idiot who turned a blind eye as his stewards exploited newcomers, treating allies as if they were slaves. Had he acted honorably, he might still be alive.”

Matas struggled for words, his expression a mixture of anger and doubt. ”Do not think I will believe such vile allegations,” he finally spat. ”I will not allow you to besmirch his name.”

”Besmirch his name?” Kaleesh gave the Ranger an amused look. ”Kadun's treatment of newcomers was hardly a secret. And from what I've heard about you, you are far too honorable a man to defend such things.”

The Ranger had no answer to this. For several seconds he stood in silence, appearing at a loss for words. Then, with a sharp movement, he turned to his men. ”We're leaving.”

Arran watched with furrowed brow as the Ranger's party departed. Once the group was out of earshot, he turned to Kaleesh. ”Well done, I think?”

The captain offered a satisfied smirk. ”Extremely well, I would say. Matas believes himself a righteous hero — the kind of man who treats even his enemies justly. He might have little love for outsiders, but he has even less respect for rulers who act like Kadun.”

”So he isn't a threat?”

”I wouldn't go that far,” Kaleesh replied. ”Right now, he's torn between loyalty to his father's allies and distaste for Kadun's actions. But if he ever figures out where he stands, he could become a dangerous enemy.” He shrugged, and added, ”Fortunately, he's not exactly known for his quick wit.”

Arran nodded in understanding. ”Then let's hope he doesn't figure it out. We have enough enemies as it is.”

They set off toward the Citadel once more, finding no further delays along the way. After another half-hour of walking through the city's busy streets, they finally saw the fortress appear in the distance.

If the Sanctum had been a place of beauty, with even its outer walls carved from white marble, the Citadel was wholly different. Built to be functional rather than inviting, its walls were erected from simple gray stone, rough and undecorated. And the same held true for the buildings that rose above the walls, as well. Simple and practical, they were clearly built for function rather than form.

Still, imposing as the fortress appeared, it was obvious that its walls weren't built to withstand the Blight. Rather, they were made to keep out simple intruders. Against a serious assault, they would barely be a delay.

But then, there was no need for real defenses. The true fortress was Sacrifice itself, and a force that could breach such a bulwark would have no trouble disposing of any walls men could erect.

When they reached the Citadel's gate, they found it guarded by two dozen soldiers, headed by a single Knight. As they approached, the Knight stepped forward.

”Your business?”

”We've come to see Lady Merem,” Arran said.

The Knight gave a small nod, then motioned to one of the soldiers. ”Take these two to Lady Merem.”

For a moment, Arran was surprised at how easily the Knight let them pass. Yet after giving it a moment's thought, he realized there was no need to verify whether they were speaking the truth.

If they had lied, Lady Merem herself was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself. And from what he knew of her, any unwanted visitors would certainly regret their mistake.

As the soldier led them through the gates, Arran saw that the Citadel was exactly as he'd imagined, filled with austere barracks and well-used training fields upon which hundreds of recruits were practicing, their clothes already drenched with sweat despite the early hour.

Most would hardly consider the sight an inviting one, but Arran felt something close to envy as he looked at it. This was a place for practice, sleep, and little else, and it was obvious that those who resided here were fully dedicated to increasing their strength.

”I wouldn't envy them too much,” Kaleesh said, sensing what was on Arran's mind. ”I'll bet you a pure shadowmetal coin that this place has just as much backstabbing and politics as any other.” He grinned as he shot a glance at the soldier escorting them. ”Isn't that right?”

The man gave a non-committal shrug, though his eyes betrayed a hint of weariness. ”The road to strength holds many obstacles.”

”I didn't take the bet,” Arran grumbled. From the soldier's reaction, it was obvious that Kaleesh had been right.

It made sense that the Citadel would have its share of schemes and intrigue, of course. Lady Merem's power left Arran in awe, and for a chance at power like that, many would not hesitate to betray even their best friends.

But even so, Arran had hoped the Citadel might be different — an isle of calm amid the storm of intrigue, where strength rather than influence mattered.

He sighed as his eyes wandered across the practicing recruits before turning his attention back to the soldier. ”How much farther is it?”

”Not too far,” the man replied. ”We should find Lady Merem in her practice yard. It's where she spends most of her time.”

His words proved true, and a few minutes later they reached a walled garden within the Citadel. Secluded from the rest of the area, it was clearly created for solitude as much as it was for practice, and when they stepped through the wooden gate they were immediately met with the sight of Lady Merem.

She stood on the grass with sword in hand, their arrival seemingly having interrupted her practice. Yet as she turned to face the unexpected visitors, her expression showed no sign of surprise.

”You may leave,” she instructed the soldier. The man bowed and left, after which she turned her attention to Arran and Kaleesh. ”I had expected you to visit, but not quite as soon as this. I assume something happened?”

Arran briefly considered his words, then decided there was no point in dancing around the issue. He'd chosen to trust Lady Merem over the church, and now, all that remained was a leap of faith.

He calmed his nerves as best he could. Then, his voice more confident than he felt, he said, ”I have the Ruiner's bloodline. And the church wants it.”

This time, a flash of surprise crossed Lady Merem's face, though it lasted only a second before she spoke, ”Draw your weapons, both of you.”

Arran hesitantly did as she said, wondering whether he'd just made the greatest — and perhaps last — mistake of his life. Yet as both he and Kaleesh drew their swords and faced Lade Merem uncomfortably, she gave a thoughtful nod.

”We will spar while you talk,” she said. ”Now tell me what happened.”